Bonnefoy's Wish from the Heart
by Sivilian
Summary: Antonio, Gilbert, and Francis spend Christmas Eve together. After they exchange gifts, a mysterious box appears under Bonnefoy's tree.
1. Weapon of Mass Destruction

After several festive days of attending parties and banquets and celebrations, Francis and his two best friends, Gilbert and Antonio, all fell back lazily and exhaustedy into armchairs around Francis' Christmas Tree. It was the same every year. The trio would attended silly, petty parties. They'd have their fun, get recognized as fun guests, and get endless invitations to parties the next year. On Christmas Eve, however, there would be no more parties. The threesome would exchange their gifts to each other. It made Christmas better for them. No tinking of the glasses, no following rich women, no loud noise. Just three friends sitting quietly around a Christmas tree like little kids.

First, Antonia handed a white box with a black bow to Gilbert, "I hope you think it is awesome."

Gilbert pulled the ribbon and lifted the lid of the box. He lifted out a golden whistle, "This is so-"

Antonio waved his hands, "Blow on it! Blow on it!"

Gilbert, surprised, blew on the whistle. It made a vibrato, high-pitched squeel. Francis glared at Antonio. Oh how annoying Gilbert will be! Gilbert sprang up and rushed to the window that overlooked the garden. A little bird was perched on the windowsill, cocking its head at Gilbert.

"Oh! Antzonio! This is so awesome," he gave his friend a bear hug.

"Eh, heh heh. That's good. Now Francis," Antonio straightened out his sweater that became wrinkled from the German's embrace, "This is a magical thing that I found in my attic."

Francis picked up the red box with a green ribbon. Never enough tomatoes for Antonio. He pulled the ribbon off delicately. As he removed the lid, he began to see what was inside. Silly Antonio must have been drunk when he found it. It could definetly make a drunk man believe it was magical. The tiny little ball was a sparkling tree sphere-ornament. It sported a silver bronze color with lavender dots along a center line.

"I bet if you hang it on your tree, the thing your heart most desires will come true." Antonio whispered. Gilbert leaned in, looking at it, thinking of how beautiful the tiny ornament was.

"Honhonhon, total control over Europe!" The three laughed.

Francis hung the ornament in an empty spot in the middle of the tree. It glittered nicely against the candle light. Francis stared at for awhile, not thinking, just looking. Gilbert broke him out of the trance by thristng him a cardboard box.

"Francis, it is so awesome, you must opven it vright now!" Gilbert instructed.

The box practically fell apart in his lap. The contents spilled out ferosiously. Wooden tokens, hand carved with images of birds.

"Gilbert, you have such... awesome! craftsmanship!" Francis beamed. They were like tokens of friendship. There was a wooden coin for every year they'd had this Christmas Eve tradition.

"I knowz, I knowz. Thank you." Gilbert remained modest.

The snow-haired man handed the dark-haired man is box. Antonio picked up a potato in disgust. Francis chuckled at the practical joke. In tears, Gilbert cracked open the dry potato which revealed to be hollow. There were hundreds of Italian tomato seeds. Antonio had been longing to grow Italian tomatoes rather the Spanish kind. Italians were so sweet.

Francis frowned before he handed his gifts to his friends. They weren't made by him. He didn't put his heart into their gifts like they had. Gilbert grinned at the silky suit Francis had purchased for him. Antonio chuckled as he slipped on his new leather boots. Everyone enjoyed their gifts. Even if sweat wasn't put into making them.

"Hullo? A mystery gift?" Gilbert narrowed his eyes at a rather large golden box hidden under the tree.

Francis reached under and slid it out, "It's a bit heavy... Antonio?"

"It's not from me." The Spaniard said.

"Oh, little birdies, it's for Francis!" The German tapped the silver ink on the box that said clearly, _Francis Bonnefoy_.

"I swear it wasn't there a few minutes ago..." Francis turned it around, hoping to find who it was from.

He didn't find the sender, but he pulled the lavender and silver ribbon anyway. Then he had to get through a layer of golden wrapping paper. If Antonio was right, about the ornament granting you your heart's wish, then a bomb must in the box. All he had to do was lift the lid and the key to conquering Europe would be his.

The three men stared as the box as Francis' hands lifted the lid. His heart's honest wish lay inside there. Their new future was waiting. A weapon of mass destruction.

Their weapon of mass destruction was a child.


	2. Angel

"What in the world?"

All three men jumped back. A small boy was curled up inside the box. His eyes were closed and his breathing was soft. His entire body glowed softly, like a candle. A tranquil and serene aura eminated off of him. The child wore a pure white, simple dress. It was really more like a gown. A silver crown with a purple gem rested neatly on his head.

"He must be an angel!"

"An angel from heaven!"

"An angel who shall help us gain control of Europe." Francis added.

The angel boy sat up and rubbed his eyes. His blond-bronze hair glittered with the candlelight. His crown twinkled with the starlight that wasn't in theroom. Antonio approached him cautiously. Like a price tag, a piece of paper hung from his wrist. It fell like a leaf and landed in the Spaniard's hand. He read the words out loud.

The King of Europe

Antonio and Gilbert started laughing uncontrably, This little boy was the King of Europe? Preposterous! Antonio flipped the paper over.

Francis Bonnefoy's Son

Francis sat on the floor, stunned. Was this his heart's wish? No, he distinctly remembered wishing for the control of Europe. The great god in the sky had sent him an Angel... he was sent an angel. He was sent a son. A son that was an angel. There could be many ways to take over Europe with a cherub. But he was too dazed by this sudden gift. He ushered the two confused, hysterical men out of the room. Francis rubbed his eyes. Was this a delusion? It didn't feel very otherworldly in the room.

"Je suis Francis. Who are you?" He asked the small boy.

"Je suis... your son." The child replied.

"You are not my son!" Francis told him disgustedly.

The boy opened his eyes. They were lavender. Francis had never seen such beautiful eyes. The longer the boy had his eyes open, the less he glowed. He stared at Francis until he had normal skin and did not light up the room. Francis swore that he saw dove feather fall to the ground, too. He approached the boy carefully. Francis picked up the tag again. It clearly said, Francis Bonnefoy's Son. He flipped it over. The words changed.

"Father," the boy took a step towards Francis. His silver crown began to turn to dust and fade away.

"What are you?" Francis, scared, asked.

"Je suis your son." He repeated lime before.

Can you take over Europe?" Francis asked, thinking the cherub boy would provide his wishes.

"No. I was told you wanted a son, eh? Here I am." He spoke softly. Then shyness began to wash over him.


End file.
